


Where the forest still reigns

by Alpha_Mu



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpha_Mu/pseuds/Alpha_Mu
Summary: Eleven years have passed since Voyager returned and Janeway and Seven haven't spoken for ten of them.Battling against insecurities and feeling lost in life Kathryn is finally ready to reach out and visits Seven at home. But Seven has changed. Will the love she once felt for the younger woman still be there?It's finished for now but I'm not marking complete incase there's more...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing in the first person so I'm a bit worried it went a tad screwy at times... Sorry if so. Please comment and let me know!  
> Comments and kudos very welcome!

I haven't seen her in ten years. I'm not even sure how that happened. How can a decade have passed without her in my life? We were so close on Voyager. There was a time I couldn't imagine even a day going by without her. But that was before Chakotay got his claws into her.

No that's not fair; I shouldn't think of it like that. Who could blame him after all? He had the courage to do what I didn't. But that's when it all changed. When we started to drift apart. When I first pulled away from her. I thought at the time that I had to; she needed to have her own life away from my influence and I was deluded if I thought she would ever be interested in me. My feelings would pass, that's what I thought. I still had to get my crew home and that needed to be my focus I told myself, and I let her slip away. Even as I felt my heart breaking. I couldn't let my feelings for her get in the way of my command. 

And then just weeks later, when I'd resigned myself to spending the next decades alone, there I was; the future me, offering us a way home and looking at Seven with such unbridled longing, even after all those years, that I thought the whole crew must see it. God I was angry at her for that. When did my command mask fail so spectacularly? In reality I don't think anyone really knew me well enough to see it for what it was though, with the exception of Tuvok obviously. I'm sure he knew but of course he'd never say anything. He never has. Even when I told him last week I was going to visit her. 

I've never thought about it before but suddenly that strikes me as tragic. Seven years with those people, people who I came to consider family, and I never really let them in. No wonder I hardly hear from any of them now. Respect and admiration are all very well, but they don't keep you warm at night. 

The road twists and turns more than anywhere I've been in some time. I suppose it's like that here where the forest still reigns: human endeavors fitting in around nature. Not like in San Francisco where everything is straight lines and predictable block patterns. I never imagined her somewhere like this. Somewhere so utterly alien to all she grew up with, all she'd ever known until we got back to Earth. Perhaps it reminds her of unimatrix zero. Perhaps that makes her happy. Perhaps I just don't know her anymore. Of course she'll have changed in ten years. Ten years for God's sake. What was I thinking coming here? Perhaps it will be horribly awkward and we won't have anything to say to each other. Suddenly I'm panicking, my palms leaving sweaty condensation on the console. But I won't turn back. I didn't come this far to turn back. 

I know she's changed. I've seen some recent pictures from when she spoke at the last convention about her work with the freed Borg. Her hair is shorter for one thing, bobbed around her face- her face which is rounder than it used to be. She's still svelte but softer somehow. Less angular. The sight of her still made my heart beat out of my chest. 

I remember her hair on Voyager, nearly always twisted up in that bun. I don't know why she didn't just crop it short if she didn't like to wear it down. Or why the doctor stimulated it to grow that much in the first place for that matter. I guess he made her into what he thought she should be and she allowed it not knowing any better. 

She wore it down the day we left Voyager. That was Chakotay’s influence I suppose. I remember the feel of it under my hands pressed into her back when she hugged me goodbye. We stood there in the corridor outside my quarters clinging to each other as I tried to memorise the feeling of her body pressed into my own. The smell of her shampoo and a warm undertone of something metallic surrounding me and feeling like home. She'd never initiated physical contact with me before and at the time I was too stunned, and too pleased, to question it. But I think now she must have been very frightened. I can't believe I didn't make more effort to stay in touch with them after the first year we were back. It was so busy that year, so many questions. So many debriefings. I saw all of them frequently that year but slowly they all peeled away to start their new lives. Seven and Chakotay moved in together, making a home. The home that I wanted with her. 

I couldn't watch them together so I stayed away like a coward. God I've been such a coward. Even after I heard they'd separated I still didn't contact her. I convinced myself that if she wanted me, if she needed me, then she would to come to me. I've put my life on the line for her but I couldn't get on the comm and ask her to meet me for a for a cup of coffee or a game of Velocity. That future me died so I could be here. Died so Seven wouldn't have to die. I'm a disgrace to her memory. A disgrace and a coward and not fit for the admiral's bars on my uniform. 

I'm not wearing my uniform today. God knows that was a challenge. The counsellor they made me see when we got back said that Kathryn had been subsumed into ‘The Captain’ and I needed to keep ‘The Captain’ out of my personal life. I've managed it pretty well for the most part but today was hard. I've never been anyone but ‘The Captain’ in front of Seven. Who knows if she'll even like Kathryn. My hands are sweating again. Think of something else. Christ if I have to greet her with sweaty palms I think I'll die. 

I wonder how I should greet her? Surely shaking hands is too formal. We only really hugged that one time so I suppose that's out of the question. She kissed me once as well. If you can call it a kiss. I've never told anyone. I don't even know if she remembers it herself. It was in that first year before I decided that seeing her with Chakotay hurt too much. I took her to my mother's just like I promised. Honestly I'd hoped she'd forget but cortical nodes don't really allow for such human failings; not sober anyway. So I took her. And she looked through all the photo albums that my mother produced and drank the blackcurrant cassis that Phoebe had brought back from Paris. And she laughed, honest to God laughed, at my mother's stories of us growing up. She was so fucking luminous I'm surprised all the moths in Indiana didn't turn up at my mother's windows. And then late that night when I was listening to some of my old music as I got ready for bed there was a soft knock at my door. She sat on the bed and we listened together and then she just leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. Just like that. No warning. No preamble. Just kissed me on the mouth. It was so brief I didn't have time to react. Not intellectually at least. My insides felt like a warp core breach instantaneously. And then she passed out on top of the covers. I was so dazed that I just curled up on what little space was left on the bed and slept there until she woke up confused and hungover at 0500 and went to the guest room. 

But that was a long time ago. All of that was a long time ago. I have no idea who she is anymore. So I guess we'll just greet each other however we greet each other. I need to stop thinking of her as naive and trust her to know what she's doing even if I don't. She's changed. Of course she's changed. She's a mother now. Three boys. Three rescued Borg children and she's doing it all on her own. I'm sure she can handle a simple greeting.


	2. Chapter 2

The house isn't what I expected as I pull up. It's bigger for a start and more traditional. The Scandinavian influence is obvious in the plain wooden structure and the shape of the windows. I'm a little early but she'll have heard me pull up so I guess this is it. If I wanted time to compose myself I should have pulled over before I got here. But there's nowhere to hide in this clearing; just wide open space and her house and then the forest beyond. My palms are sweating again. Fuck. This is why I liked having ‘The Captain’ in my personal life. Her palms don't sweat like Kathryn’s do. The door to the house opens as I grab the flowers I've brought off the back seat. I couldn't arrive empty handed but now they seem like a bad idea because I've seen her standing there and my heart is in my mouth and she is so beautiful that these flowers don't come anywhere near doing her justice. 

She's leaning against the door jamb watching me. I've never seen her lean. She has changed. Of course she's changed. My legs are taking me to her and then I hear my own voice, thick from not having spoken for hours whilst I drove. 

“Hello Seven”

“Hello Captain” she responds and her mouth twitches into a half smirk. 

I almost laugh, but it's more just a fast expulsion of air really. “I'm not your Captain anymore Seven” I say and I feel my face go into that crooked smile. 

She looks me up and down as if she's trying to decide if I'm still worthy of the title. “You'll always be my Captain” she whispers and then she pushes away from the door frame and gestures with her hand, her voice louder when she adds: “Please come in, welcome”.

I follow her into the kitchen. Everything is wood and open plan and the back wall is glass, showcasing a spectacular view of the forest beyond the garden. The thing that strikes me the most though is the smell of the place. It smells like her. She is everywhere here and it's almost too much.

“These are for you” I say, holding out the flowers. My voice sounds shaky to me but maybe she won't notice… although what are the chances of that with Borg enhanced hearing? 

“Thank you. They're beautiful.” She responds naturally, taking them from me and moving to put them in water. Her response is so genuine that it rattles me. The clipped Borg answers are gone and I almost don't recognise her. She's changed. Of course she's changed. It's been ten years for God's sake. 

She looks at me with laser intensity then. As if her Borg eye were never removed. “I'm glad you called” she states. “I've missed you Kathryn”.

What she does next almost has me come undone. She walks over to me and wraps me in a fierce embrace. The contact is so unexpected and so sweet that I have to stifle a sob into her shoulder and my eyes prick with tears. I knew I was nervous but I didn't expect this emotion to wash over me with such force. 

We hold on to each other like that for what feels like minutes but in reality can't be more than 20 seconds. When she lets go I feel the tension go out of my body and I feel invigorated and renewed. All my fears of awkwardness have evaporated as if she's absorbed my nerves into her very body.

“Coffee? Black?” she asks, with that sexy quirk of her ocular implant. 

“Please” I smile. 

“It's Colombian, I hope that's OK?” she says as she sets about putting it to percolate. There's a replicator but she remembers I prefer the real deal. 

“Perfection” I answer. Although I'm not sure if I'm talking about the coffee or about her.

Only when I turn to take in the rest of the living area do I notice the sleeping baby, his bassinet resting next to the low couch. I gasp at the sight of him. I knew he would be here but I've been so wrapped up in my own emotions that it completely slipped my mind. 

“Are you OK?” she asks at my sharp intake of breath. 

“Yes… I just … Seven he's beautiful”, I whisper in awe. I've never been moved by children particularly, certainly I've never felt the urge to have any of my own. But this child, this baby with his creamy skin and shock of dark hair has me at a loss for words. Maybe I'm just drunk on emotion but I'm feeling overwhelmed and its unnerving. 

He's been here for three weeks now, removed from stasis two months ago when the freed Cube he was on was finally picked up by a Starfleet scout ship after years of drifting. The sole human survivor on a crippled vessel full of an array of species. His birth mother must have been on there at one time but what happened to her will remain a mystery. They say he must have been assimilated as a newborn and put in a maturation chamber only a few hours before we released the virus that would bring the Borg to their knees and allow so many former drones to reclaim something of who they used to be. I know these things. I've read the reports. But clearly it didn't prepare me for the reality.

“I think so too” she replies softly, snapping me out of my rumination in time for me to accept the coffee she's holding out. 

“What did you call him?” I ask. I've read the report but it was clinical and detached. The point at which the child was released to the care of the esteemed Dr Hansen is where it ended. 

“Magnus Edward” comes the response and my stomach flips for the second time in as many minutes. 

“Edward was my father's name” I say. 

“I know” she tells me seriously, that laser gaze on me again but there's a softness around her eyes that's new and softens even further as she averts her eyes to look upon her sleeping child, sinking down to sit at the dining table where she can watch him easily. 

I follow her example and sit down across from her. “Well it's an excellent name” I say with a bravado I don't feel and take a deep pull of my coffee. Frankly it's still too hot for that sort of behaviour but the burn anchors me to the physical. I don't want to think about the implications of her choosing my father's name for her son. Not now anyway. “What about your other boys? Will I meet them too?”. A lame attempt at changing the subject but it will have to do. 

“Remy is on a field trip with the academy and Jaques is camping with Icheb and the Wildmans. He and Naomi have become good friends”. That makes sense. Jaques is 16 and Remy is 19. I read that in a report too. What a creep. Why didn't I just call her years ago instead of keeping tabs on her from afar all this time?

“That's wonderful. I understand Naomi will start at the academy in September as well?”. She nods. “Does Remy enjoy it?” 

“Yes although I think he finds some of the rules stifling at times” she admits. 

I can't help the smile that spreads across my face at that. Like mother like son. “I happen to remember a certain someone struggling with the rules on Voyager” I say with mirth, “and she did alright for herself”.

She smiles back shyly and tucks a loose strand of her short hair behind her ear. “Thank you. For your patience with me then. Having the boys has made me realise how trying it can be to have someone question you constantly!” she says with a hint of a chuckle on her full lips. 

“I happened to think you were worth it” I say without missing a beat. I meant to keep it light but my voice comes out serious and suddenly I feel like I've made the conversation too sincere. We sit in silence for a moment sipping at our drinks before I speak again. 

“I was sorry to hear about you and Chakotay” I offer. I don't know why I'm bringing that up, of all things, but I had to say something. Her eyes flash and I instantly wish I'd said something else. 

“Were you?” she asks, incredulous. 

Shit. Why did I bring him up? “Of course. I care about you both, I wanted you to be happy”. She looks even more incredulous now. 

“You were key to my happiness on Voyager. Yet when we got back you never called” she says with accusation- and it hurts. 

“I thought you needed time away from me” I fire back defensively. “I thought you needed to develop your relationship with Chakotay without my influence”. My head is reeling. I don't know how the conversation took this turn, but maybe these are things that need to be said. 

“What I needed was you.” She says so plainly that there's nowhere for me to hide.

“You never called either” I answer and regret it immediately. She's let herself be vulnerable and here I am point scoring. What a bitch. But I can't take it back even as I see the pain cross her face. 

“I felt that you had abandoned me. That our friendship had been only a distraction and once we were back to your home you didn't want me anymore.” 

If only she knew that she couldn't be further from the truth.


	3. Chapter 3

She's fidgeting, wringing her hands. I reach out to cover them with my own and she goes still. I wait until she meets my eyes before I talk again. “I'm so sorry Seven. Please believe me when I say that's not the case. Can you forgive me? I should have been there for you. I realise that now. We should have spoken about this long ago. I've wasted so much time on my pride.”

“You're here now, that's what matters” she says simply. 

I pull my hands away, afraid I'll start sweating on her if I don't. “I really did hope that you and Chakotay would be happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you” I offer, but it feels weak. 

She shakes her head with a sad smile. “We didn't make each other happy in the end. I pursued a relationship with him before all the facts about possible options were available to me. I came to understand that I had erred badly. It was eight years ago anyway. Its long forgotten. We're both in better places now.”

“Well good. What about since? Has there been anyone?”. That causes her to raise her eyebrow. I didn't even mean to ask it but I want to know. 

“I dated a little. Out of loneliness mostly. There was someone for a few months but she wasn't really who I wanted.”. She looks at me pointedly but I can't read her like I used to. The thought of her lonely is breaking my heart too much for me to start dissecting her meaning anyway. How could I have been so callous? 

Before I can respond she continues. “The following year the boys arrived and they've been my focus since then. My new collective in a way.” She looks at me intently, as if gauging me, wondering what she can ask me back. “What about you?” she says eventually, “Is there a man in your life?”

I laugh at that, more of a snort really. Attractive. Not. “No. No man”, I don't tell her that there hasn't been a man between my legs since Mark and that was nearly 20 years ago. 

“A woman?” she asks. Didn't expect her to pick up on that. 

“No woman either.” I don't tell her that there have been women. Always younger than me. Always blonde. Always at my lowest ebb, when I hated myself for being alone. Hated myself for letting the future me kill herself and not even having the courage to do what she had sacrificed herself for. I don't tell her that sometimes I think it should have been me that died, at least she would have told Seven she loved her. I don't tell her that I always felt dirty afterwards. Or that the last time it happened was nearly four years ago. I've got good at being alone since. Good at pleasuring myself when the mood takes me. Efficient. I wonder if she would appreciate that. Or if there are some areas of life that even she wouldn't appreciate efficiency. 

Little Magnus starts to stir then and she rises to lift him up with such gentle reverence it almost makes me weep to see it. She sits with him on the couch and he snuggles into her, nuzzling instinctively at her breast. I almost choke on my coffee when she unclips her vest and starts to nurse him. 

She looks at me sharply. “It doesn't bother you does it?”

“No! God no.” I respond with vehemence. “I'm sorry I just… I wasn't expecting it. I think it's wonderful. I just… I didn't know…” I stutter. 

“My nanoprobes” she tells me as if that's all the explanation needed. It'll do. The science isn't important. It is wonderful. There were times when I questioned myself, when I thought I was an arrogant ass for having the gall to take her away from all she knew. But looking at her now with this baby in her arms I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. 

I smile at them indulgently. “You're a natural” I tell her. “Did you ever think about having any of your own?”

Her brow furrows and she looks at me confused. “A little difficult without a uterus”

The words hit me like a phaser blast and it feels like all the air is gone from my lungs. “Oh Seven. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'd never have said that if I did”

“I'd assumed you were privy to all my medical records?” she asks. 

“So did I, I guess. But I'm glad the doctor kept some things between you.” I tell her sadly. 

“Don't feel bad. In truth I hadn't thought about children until Remy and Jaques needed a home and even then I didn't do it out of any kind of maternal instinct. I thought it would be like with the Borg children on Voyager. It wasn't and they needed more. They needed love. We figured it out together. It has been the most incredible experience.” She smiles as she glances over to a picture of the three of them that must have been taken some years ago.

I follow her gaze. “They're fine boys” I tell her with forced lightness. I still feel sick from her revelation. Thinking of all her body was put through as a child. Cold sweat is beading on my upper lip and in my hairline and for a moment I think I might retch. I need to snap out of this. I want this to be a happy visit. “Could I please use your bathroom a moment?”

“Of course. Up the stairs and first right” she tells me. But she's looking at little Magnus. Good. Hopefully she hasn't noticed my discomfort.

I draw deep breaths as I climb the stairs. Trying to shake off the unease. There's a corridor at the top with doors down both sides. Shit. Where did she say it was. My head is swimming and I can’t remember. Think. First on the… left? I open the door and immediately realise I'm wrong. This room is a study or a library. There are bookshelves and a desk. Funny, I didn't imagine her with books. Proper books. It reminds me of growing up. The smell of them. As I turn to leave something catches me eye. A holo of Seven and a woman. It takes me a few moments to realise the woman is me. It must be from when she came to Indiana although I don't remember it being taken. I probably didn't realise, neither of us is looking at the camera, laughing to each other at some long forgotten joke. We look so happy. I look so young! My hair is still red, not like it is now but I'm determined not to give in and dye it. The biggest difference though is my eyes. It's like I came alive looking at her. I don't know why I've left it so long to come here. I think perhaps I need her like I need air. That would certainly explain my willingness to risk my life time and again to save hers. I can't think about that right now though because right now what I need is to find the bathroom and get back downstairs before she wonders what I'm doing. 

A quick splash of water on my face and I'm ready to go back. I want so badly to let my command mask come down, to let the diplomacy training take over. But I need to be Kathryn now. ‘The Captain’ never could let anyone in and I didn't come all this way for a professional conversation. I want to reach out. To let her see me and to see if we can be friends. I think the time to try for anything more has passed but I don't want another decade without her in my life in some capacity. 

I thought my feelings might have waned but seeing her today has made me realise how much I am still in love with her. God I am so in love with her. I'll take whatever she will give me. A casual acquaintance will do. Anything. 

When I return she's still nursing the baby and accepts the glass of water I offer. If she heard me go into her study or thought me gone for a bit too long she doesn't mention it. 

Any awkwardness that had existed before dissipates and the time passes easily talking about old friends and what they're doing now and about our own jobs and hobbies. Not that I have much to tell. My Admiralty is really just a glorified desk job. I'm bored with it. I'm bored with Starfleet if truth be known. They trot me out every now and again for recruitment drives- the Captain who defeated literally all the odds and made a 70 year journey in 7 years. Even that's not happening so often anymore. We've been back eleven years, we're old news. 

When the baby is done she offers him to me. Usually I'd find an excuse but this time I don't want to and I take him from her and we sit together on the floor whilst she starts to potter about the kitchen. 

“How old is he?” I ask as I look at his round little face as he thrashes around, reaching for a stuffed rabbit. I've got no idea about babies but I know enough to be able to tell that the maturation chamber he was put in did it's job, even if only for an hour. 

“There are several possible answers to that question, which would you like?” she replies. 

I think for a moment before answering. “His developmental age. I know he was born eleven years ago but he's clearly not eleven. And he was assimilated as a newborn but he's clearly not a newborn.”

“It's estimated that his body and motor functions are that of a six month old human baby. Emotionally we don't know but I've been advised to keep him physically close, nurse him, respond to him immediately and so forth to try and help him develop a close attachment. The fact is that I've only experienced one other drone that was assimilated so young and removed from the maturation chamber so prematurely. And… well… I'm sure I don't need to remind you.”. She looks haunted by the memory as she turns away from me to chop something on the counter. 

She's right. She doesn't need to remind me. When the Borg baby that she rescued died I was afraid we might lose her to grief. I think after what happened with One she had seen the infant as a sort of second chance but the little girl was too underdeveloped and when her implants destabilised there was nothing that the doctor could do. The only other time I had seen her rage so much was that first day in the brig. After she destroyed half of cargo bay 2 I held her just like I had done then. She didn't respond but she allowed it. I watched her regenerate that night. Sat there on the hard floor and just watched her until the cycle completed. She stepped out of her alcove the next morning and we never spoke of it again. Until now. 

“Well this little guy is clearly thriving” I answer, trying to deflect from the somber topic and as if on cue he gurgles happily in response. “Does he have many Borg systems left?” I ask. I know from the report that the doctors managed to remove about 85% of it before he came here but it strikes me now that whatever is left, none of it is visible to me at the moment when he's wearing long sleeves and pants. 

“What remains is mostly internal in the thorax and abdomen. There are some implants visible on his upper arms and at his lower back where he connects to his modified alcove but as long as he's clothed they aren't obvious thankfully”

“They're nothing to be ashamed of Seven. You know that don't you?”. My heart aches to think that she might want to hide. Her implants are part of her and to me they're beautiful. 

“Remy and Jaques had some... ‘trouble’ with other children when they first attended school. If that can be avoided for Magnus then I'll be grateful” she replies. The hurt at the memory clear in her tone. 

“Kids can be awful.” I nod. “I'm sorry you all had to deal with that.”

“Indeed” is all she says back. If she's reverting back to Borg speak then she must really be hurting. 

“So Magnus has to regenerate then?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from the memories. 

“Yes but only every 72 hours. The hope is that it will reduce to once a week and then once every two weeks eventually. At the moment though it would be too much for his human physiology to try to last that long. He will complete a cycle tonight in fact. Once I finish preparing these vegetables you may assist in bathing him if you wish?”

“I'd like that”.


	4. Chapter 4

I've never bathed an infant before but watching Seven playing with the water to the delight of her son is enough to convince me I'd help out every night if I could. 

I leave her to settle him in to his alcove, if settle is the right word, and go back downstairs to open the bottle of wine she's left on the counter. Bajoran Springwine. Its light but I'll need to watch myself, I can put the hover on auto drive to get home but I'd rather keep my wits about me. 

Seven joins me only a few minutes later, before the clock has even hit 18.30. I can think of a few parents who would appreciate the speed of tucking their kids in with the flick of a switch but I manage to keep that horrendously inappropriate observation to myself. 

She's changed out of her nursing vest and into a simple blouse in a deep blue that brings out her eyes. God she looks amazing. I smile at her from where I'm leaning on the counter and hold out one of the glasses of wine I've poured. 

“All OK?” I ask. 

“Yes. He will remain in the cycle for the next twelve hours.” She says with a sigh and takes an unexpectedly large swig from her wine. “It is … a ‘steep learning curve’… having an infant. I wonder at times if I'm a suitable candidate to raise him.”

She looks so vulnerable in that moment that it takes all of my control not to take her into my arms. Instead I place my hand firmly on her shoulder until she looks at me. “Seven, please believe me when I say I can't think of anyone who could be a better mother for him than you. He's a lucky boy. I think it's natural to have those feelings. I remember having a similar conversation with Samantha Wildman in fact. Perhaps you could talk to her about it?”

She regards me intently for a moment before the softness returns to her eyes. “Thank you, perhaps I'll do that” she nods and rolls her neck like she's trying to shake off a weeks worth of tension, her hair leaving tingles where it brushes against my fingers. “How do you like the wine?” she asks. Clearly we're changing the topic so I take a step back, disappointed at the loss of contact. 

“It's good. You have excellent taste.”. She looks pleased at that. 

“I chose it to go with the meal I'm planning. I hope fettuccine primavera sounds appealing?”

She really has changed. Wine and Italian food from scratch. A far cry from ‘nutritional supplement number 16’ or whatever it was on Voyager. Although as I keep reminding myself, it has been ten years. “It sounds incredible” I answer. “Can I do anything to help?”

She quirks her ocular implant and smirks at me. “Your skills around a replicator, or rather lack thereof, were legendary on Voyager. Unless more things have changed than I thought possible I think it would be wise to leave it to me”.

To someone else she might sound arrogant but I see the humour for what it is and laugh heartily. She's not wrong after all. Cooking is far from my strong point. I'm not sure what my strong point is these days. 

As she cooks we chat about this and that, me seated at the table, her standing at the stove. I can't help the fantasies that run through my head. I imagine coming up behind her and slipping my arms around her waist, kissing her neck and resting my head against her shoulders as she works. So this is what my fantasies have become now? An image of domestic bliss. They used to ask be about us ripping our clothes off and fucking each other senseless wherever we stood. The turbo lift, my ready room, the Velocity court. I guess I've changed too.

“Kathryn?”. She's looking at me expectantly. I look back blankly. “It's OK if you don't, I was only going to replicate it anyway”. 

Shit. I have no idea what the question was. “I'm sorry darling I was miles away. What was the question?”. Darling!? Where did that come from!? I think now that I should have forced myself to eat today before I came here. I can feel the wine going to my head but I was so damn nervous. 

She looks a little bashful but she doesn't mention it. “What were you thinking about?”

I can feel a blush creeping up my neck and all the way to my hairline. “Just… some old times on Voyager. Velocity and things… and…” I swallow deeply, trying to find some courage to be at least a little honest “ I was thinking how good it is being here with you… it feels like no time has passed at all in some ways…”. Eugh I hate that I'm stuttering. I take another sip of wine but immediately regret it. It's good wine but it's the reason I'm in this mess in the first place. 

She just smiles at me though. One of those luminous smiles that I've only seen once before - in Indiana. “I like it too” she says in a voice that's like a caress. 

We hold each other's gaze across the room until I can't stand it anymore and I look down at my wine and clear my throat, “What was the question anyway?”

“Humm…?” she mumbles absently. “Oh. I was just enquiring if you wanted garlic bread with your pasta? I can replicate it if so, it's no trouble”

“Thank you but I'm sure your pasta will be more than enough.” I know there's no chance that we're going to end up kissing but I still don't think I want garlic breath around her. “It smells incredible. When did you learn to cook?”.

She serves the pasta followed by a palate cleansing sorbet and throughout the meal we talk so easily. She tells me how she took cookery classes when the boys first arrived and how Remy is hoping to take a command track at the academy and how Jaques is an aspiring musician. With some food in me the wine feels less dangerous and I gladly accept another glass when she offers. 

When we move to the living area she asks if I'd like to hear some of Jaques’ compositions. The first one she plays is utterly captivating. It has something of Beethoven's Allegretto about it. Rousing and hopeful. Poignant in a way like nothing that I've heard in years. It moves me deeply and we sit quietly and just listen for the 10 minutes or so that it lasts. 

When it's over she leaves the rest to play on but turns it down so that we can talk as she lights a fire in the wood burner. And we do talk. For hours. About nothing and everything. Laughing at old times and sharing new stories to make each other smile. I catch her watching me several times throughout the evening when she thinks I'm not looking. More than once I wonder if perhaps I shouldn't have come. If my presence is disturbing her equilibrium. But I couldn't stay away any longer. It had been too long by far already. 

As the night wears on we sit facing each other, our bodies mirroring. Leg curled under us, arm slung along the back of the couch, hands almost touching. It feels so good to be here with her like this. So right. The heat from the fire and the buzz of the wine is seeping into me. I can feel my inhibitions ebbing away but part of me doesn't care. The other part of me is terrified of doing something inappropriate. Of ruining it all and losing her forever. 

Apparently the part that doesn't care is winning because I hear myself say “I like what you've done with your hair. It looks good on you.”. My voice sounds sultry even to my own ears. 

She runs her hand through it self consciously leaving it tousled and frankly goddamn sexy. “I cut it short when the boys were younger. We swam a lot in the river near by here, it was more practical this way and I suppose I just got used to it”.

Oh God now I'm imagining her in swimwear. I need to get a grip on myself and forget about these stupid fantasies. Why would someone like her ever even look twice at someone like me anyway? 

“Besides, I could say the same to you.” She says then in a low voice. 

“Oh please!” I scoff. “I'm so grey now. I look like my mother!”. The last thing I need is pity compliments. She scoots closer to me along the couch just then and reaches out to touch my hair, brushing some loose stands behind my ear, her fingers sending goosebumps rioting down my neck at her touch. 

She looks into my eyes for what feels like forever, the light of the fire playing across her skin and I'm sure she must be able to hear my heart trying to pound it's way out of my chest. After what seems an eternity she opens her mouth to speak again. 

“Kathryn I…”

The sound of the comm ringing startles me so hard I almost spill my wine. 

A look of frustration flashes across her face as she snaps her head around to look at the interface. She sighs as she turns back to me. 

“Will you excuse me? I need to take this in the other room. It's the task force headquarters, a new Free Borg ship must have been identified. Help yourself to more of anything.”

For a good while I can't move as I play the last few minutes over and over in my mind. What was she about to say? Whatever it was it's not what I'm hoping. Suddenly all my fears and self loathing are crashing down around me and the room feels claustrophobic. My inner voice is pointing out all of my flaws. My grey hairs, my thickening middle, the way that gravity has taken its toll on my breasts even though there was never much there for gravity to act on in the first place. Why would someone like her even look twice at me? I'm a washed up, lonely old Starfleet Admiral whose body has seen better days. My demons rage within me telling me that whatever I thought that was in the moment I was wrong. I was wrong and if I'm not careful I'll drive her away. I put my wine down and start looking for my shoes. Where the fuck are my shoes? I need air. 

At that moment she walks back into the room. “I'm sorry about that, they wanted my take on an encrypted message…” she sees me standing and stops mid sentence. “You're not leaving are you?” she says urgently. She looks almost afraid. 

Against everything I promised myself when I set off this morning I let my command mask slip into place and immediately I feel two inches taller. “I hadn't realised the time.” I respond lightly. “It's almost midnight. I'm sure you need to be getting to bed and I really should be going”. I go to breeze past her to reach for my shoes but she stops me with a hand on my lower arm. 

“Stay?” she says in a near whisper and just like that my command mask shatters and my blood is thundering in my ears again. I must look terrified because she lets go off my arm and when she speaks again the intensity is gone gone from her voice. “The guest bed is made up already. It'll take you hours to get home. You can replicate whatever you need. Just… stay? Please?”

I nod dumbly, my voice having apparently taken its leave of me. “OK” I croak. There's something about the way she says it that I know I can't refuse. Like she's thinks that if I walk out now I'm never coming back. Besides I never could say no when she said please. I guess that's something that hasn't changed. 

“I'll put something out for you to sleep in. You're right it is late.” She says as she starts moving to pack up the room for the night, closing the vents on the word burner. It's like she's seen my hesitancy and wants to move fast before I change my mind. “There's a replicator in the bathroom if you want to recycle your clothes or if you need anything.”

I follow her up the stairs wondering how I lost control of the situation so thoroughly. I don't really think I ever had control in the first place in fact. Outside the bathroom door she turns to me, a hint of the intensity from downstairs back in her eyes. “Thank you for a wonderful evening”

I find my voice eventually in time to respond. “Thank you. I'm glad I came. I'm sorry it took me so long.” 

She shakes her head softly at which I'm dissuaded from trying to apologise further. “I'll leave the guest room door open for you”. 

I nod. “Thank you again. Goodnight Seven” I reply. The words are innocuous but it feels like something has shifted between us. Perhaps we just needed to clear up old misunderstandings but there's still that look of intensity in her eyes. 

“Goodnight Kathryn.” She replies and before I can register what's happening she leans into me and places a feather light kiss on my cheek, looks at me one last time and then turns to walk down the corridor. 

My blood is rushing in my ears again but this time it feels almost good as I close the bathroom door behind me and lean against the solid wood. My hand instinctively goes to the place on my cheek where she kissed me. Those lips. Just as soft as I remember from that one time which is so indelibly sealed onto my soul. This time though I know she's not drunk on cassis. I know she'll remember it. But I still don't know what it means. 

Moving to the sink I replicate a sonic toothbrush and go about my ablutions. Looking at myself in the mirror I allow myself to entertain the notion, just for a moment, that it means what I want it to mean. That she wants me back. 

The longer I stand there staring at myself though the more the doubts creep in. Only this time I'm looking straight at my grey hair and my body which, in my eyes at least, has been ravaged by time and by too long sat behind a desk. Sure I probably look pretty good for a woman in her mid fifties. I've tried to keep in shape and take care of myself. But there's no denying that the object of my affection is the epitome of a bombshell. Not to mention that she's not yet even forty. 

By the time I creep out of the bathroom I feel desolate and foolish. I chastise myself for agreeing to stay. All I want is to crawl into my own bed and sleep for a week. I resisted the urge to replicate a whiskey but it was there nonetheless. In a way that it hasn't been since those first few years we were back. Wine with friends is one thing but I made a promise to Phoebe after she found me blind drunk one too many times that I'd never drink alone again. 

Seven has left a light on for me. The gentle glow of it through the open door leading me down the corridor to the simple but elegant guest room. Despite my reservations the bed looks sumptuous and inviting and I feel glad that I don't have to face the long ride back to San Francisco alone and drunk in the dark. Folded on the pillow is a blue silk nightshirt. Not my usual style but it'll do. I shrug out of my clothes until I'm standing in just my panties and pull the shirt over my head. Instantly I realise that this isn't a garment that she's replicated. I'm literally clothed in her scent and its making my head spin. I don't know how to handle my feelings anymore and I feel emotional exhaustion pulling at the edges of my mind. Sinking onto the bed I pull the deep quilt up around myself and once the light is out I feel the oblivion of unconsciousness claim me quickly.


	5. Chapter 5

I wake to the sound of my name being spoken. Gently at first and then with more urgency. When I open my eyes the darkness of the unfamiliar room leaves me disorientated for a moment, my heart pounding hard and the hazy glimmer of a nightmare still clinging to the back of my eyelids. I don't remember it yet but they're always the same- Seven killed or maimed, me helpless to stop it. Sometimes I dream that she was in the cockpit with my father instead of Justin. Those are the worst. The only difference is that this time when I look around she's standing there in front of me. My breath hitches at the sight of her illuminated only from behind by the light from the hallway, her hair glowing golden around her head like a halo. My very own guardian angel. 

“Kathryn? Are you unwell? I heard you calling out.”. Her voice is gentle but the genuine concern is unmistakable. 

“Yes it was just a bad dream.” I say, pushing myself up into a seated position and trying my best to rearrange my hair into something resembling tidy. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I didn't know I did that anymore”. 

She looks perturbed at my admission. “Do you have them often?” she inquires, sitting down near me on the edge of the bed, the long expense of her bare legs pale against the dark sheets. 

I shrug, trying to play it casual. “Sometimes”. Then I remember that I'm here to be honest, not to be the untouchable Captain. “Quite often actually. In the first six months we were back when I still staying at the farm I think my poor mother nearly had several heart attacks at the sound of me screaming in the night.” I laugh at my own joke but Seven apparently doesn't see the funny side so I keep talking. “Since I've been back in San Francisco there's been no one there to tell me if I'm shouting the place down so I guess I just assumed I'd stopped doing it.” 

She stays quiet for a moment longer before finally speaking. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Honestly I'm fine. The worst part about them is how thoroughly they wake me up.” I shudder at the lingering feeling of it clinging to my subconscious. “What time is it anyway?” I ask, suppressing a yawn. It's still pitch dark out by the looks of it but that doesn't mean a lot to me these days. It's never really dark in San Francisco. Not like it was back home on the farm. 

“0350”

“Oh Seven I'm sorry. I'm sure you were looking forward to a long undisturbed night and here I am ruining it for you”

“Nothing would ever be ruined for me by you being there” she says, so softly I almost wonder if I imagined it. She's not looking at me.

I don't know how to respond to that. So I don't. In the dim light she turns to look at me, her eyes searching my face with such open vulnerability. I still can't find any words so instead I take her mesh covered hand in mine and squeeze it gently, trying to convey what I'm feeling in that simple touch. Not that such a feat could ever be possible. 

She stands and I think she's going to leave but instead she pulls back the covers and climbs into the bed with me. 

“Seven?” I ask. My voice is definitely shaking this time, there's no hiding it or hoping she didn't notice. 

“I wish to hold you” she tells me, laying back and opening her arms to me.

I don't know why but it seems like the most natural thing in the world and I melt into her as if we were made to fit together. Her bare legs are as smooth and strong as polished stone against me but her flesh is soft and yielding and invites me to snuggle closer. 

With my head on her chest I can feel her breath on my hair and I can hear the steady beat of her heart. We hold each other for long moments in the half-light coming through the door before she speaks again. “I have nightmares too sometimes”.

“I think that's natural after all you've seen and been through” I reply softly, pulling her closer.

“I don't dream of the things I've seen. Or the things I've done” she tell me. “I dream of the things I fear” she adds in a whisper. 

“And what is it that you fear?”

She pauses and I wonder if perhaps she won't answer but then she sighs. “Being alone. Losing the people I love... The boys… You.” 

I feel as if I've just been given a hypospray of pure adrenaline and my heart is trying to stop and beat double time at once. I lean away so I can look at her.

“Seven… I” I begin but she cuts me off.

“Promise you'll never leave me again Kathryn?”. Her voice is raw like I've never heard it before. 

“I don't think I could even if I tried” I reply in a half whisper. She leans into me and our lips meet. Its chaste to begin with but soon I want more and I move higher up the bed until I'm leaning over her, pulling her head into me with my right hand tangled in her hair. 

We kiss like that for an age in a way that I haven't done since I was a teenager. Tongues and lips exploring without urgency, content to enjoy each other this way, neither of us moving to take it any further. 

In the end it's her who makes the first move. I feel her hand slip under my nightshirt and brush across my stomach and upwards until she's stroking the underside of my breast. She's hesitant, like she's waiting for permission. I make a small sound of pleasure and she takes that as it's intended and continues her exploration, her thumb circling my nipple until it's stiff and aching. 

I let my own hands wander down her back and over her firm ass, hitching her leg up so that it crosses my body and I can reach the underside of her thigh, caressing up and down and dangerously close to her hot centre. 

We're writhing against each other, kisses becoming ardent and breathing hard. Suddenly I'm second guessing myself and I pull back back to look at her. “This isn't moving too fast for you is it?” I ask, full of uncertainty out of nowhere. 

She smirks at me and quirks her ocular implant in evident confusion about my sudden change of pace. “When have you ever known me to do something I didn't want to do?”.

I let out a small chuckle, feeling slightly silly at my own hesitation. Her face goes serious then; “It's not moving too fast for you is it?”

“No!” I exclaim, possibly with a little too much enthusiasm. “I've wanted this for thirteen years” I add with sincerity. 

“Then if anything it would be fair to say that this is moving too slowly wouldn't you agree?” she smiles. Before I can respond she flips me on to my back and straddles my hips leaning down to kiss me with fervour. 

When she sits up again she crosses her hands over her body and hooks her fingers under her t shirt, lifting it up over her flat stomach. The material strains over her full breasts before they bounce free as she tosses the shirt to one side, looking down at me from beneath hooded eyes. 

I resist the urge to reach straight for them, instead running my palms up her smooth skin, marveling in its softness. I want to learn every inch of her and let my hands roam over her creamy body, watching for her reactions so I can find out what she likes. Her breath hitches when I run my fingers along the remaining bands of her abdominal implants and she grinds her hot core into my mound sending my own arousal soaring. I can already feel her wetness through the thin cotton barrier of her panties and it's driving me wild. 

She pulls me into a seated position and we kiss again, tongues clashing passionately. Reaching down my body she pulls my nightshirt over my head and discards it, our naked bodies coming together for the first time in a moment of sheer perfection. I gather the pillows into the middle of the bed so I can recline against them and enjoy the feeling of her skin on mine. 

Hands and lips are everywhere and her grinding is becoming more erratic, both of us gasping and moaning into each others mouths. Before long she climbs off of me, wriggling out of her underwear before straddling me again; this time just over one thigh so that her leg rubs into my own centre, evidence of my arousal smeared across her skin. 

“I want you to touch me” she says breathlessly and I'm only too happy to oblige, my fingers slipping easily through her slick folds to find her hard nub, teasing her in slow circles until she begs for more. 

“Go inside me” she groans and I slip two fingers into her tight passage. She cries out in pleasure immediately and starts to move against me again, the heel of my palm against her clit and her thighs squeezing my own rhythmically. 

Moving into a kneeling position she rocks against me again and again, her breasts tantalisingly close to my mouth but far enough away that I can only watch as they sway with her rhythm. With my free hand I hold her close as I curl my fingers inside her, her hot walls pulsing and throbbing around my finger tips before, in one glorious moment, she reaches her peak, throwing her head back as it hits and keening in delight. 

As she comes down she falls onto me, panting hard and kissing my neck and shoulder. She's still twitching around my fingers as I go to withdraw but before I can she stops me. “Stay” she whispers. So I do. Her lips find mine again and we kiss and kiss until I feel my fingers being sucked inside her as she clenches around me. Reading her desire I start to curl my fingers in time with her again, the muscles in my forearm screaming in protest but I'm in no mood to listen. In this position her thigh bumps into me with each thrust and I think perhaps I will finish like this, before I've even got out of my underwear. Just as I'm getting close she comes again in a shudder, crying out into my ear and pressing her body into mine, finally releasing my fingers so I can hold tight to her with both hands. 

When she leans up on her elbows to look at me I stroke my fingers around her ocular implant and she lets out a soft sound of enjoyment. Clearly she likes them being touched. I make a mental note to remember that, not that I need to. I never want to stop touching her. 

I feel my own need increasing again. I'm throbbing with desire and as she kisses me I can't help the gyration of my hips as my body surges up, trying to find friction where I want it most. 

She peppers me with kisses, over my face and then downward, over my collar bones and breasts, circling her tongue around first one nipple and then the other. I feel utterly worshipped by this woman in a way that no one has ever made me feel. Powerful emotion courses through me and it's intoxicating. I'm high on her like a drug and I want so much more. 

As she kisses down my body her heavy breast falls between my legs and I moan loudly at the contact and the eroticism of the moment. Seeing my reaction she lets it push against me repeatedly, my moans becoming louder each time. 

She starts her path again, her mouth moving down my stomach until I feel her breath tickle against my neatly trimmed hairs. Realising where she's headed I clasp her head to me gently. “Wait!” I exclaim in a breathy moan. 

She looks at me in surprise. “You don't enjoy this activity?” she asks. 

My head is swimming with desire. “No. I mean yes! God yes I do. But I'm not going to last 20 seconds if you do that and… I want you up here with me… I want to look at you. I need to see you… I need to know you're real”. For so long I've wanted this that it feels like a dream. Perhaps it is, I wonder absently, but if it is then I still want to see her eyes and for her to see mine. I want her to see what she means to me. 

Without another word she kisses her way back up my body and moves to lay against my right side. “I want your other hand” I tell her, indicating her Borg enhanced appendage. Her eyes go wide but she doesn't hesitate to climb over me to lay against the left of my body, caressing down me with her metal tipped fingers. It feels incredible. She feels incredible. She kisses me again as she dips in to my wetness but I can't hold her lips as I groan louder than ever. 

She circles me until I feel like I'm going to explode and then stops, again and again, edging me closer and closer but never letting me come. With anyone else I might have been frustrated but I with her I want it to last forever. 

I feel her slip inside me gently but it's not enough. I want her to fill me. I want her to climb inside me and for us to become one person. “More” I beg. 

She thrusts into me with what must be at least three fingers because I feel a delicious stretch that's just on the right side of painful to be exquisite. 

A moan escapes my lips which she captures in a searing kiss and when she pulls away she looks into my eyes as she starts to move inside me, stroking in and out with long, languid movements in a crescendo of pleasure. 

She's looking into my eyes the entire time and it's so profoundly intense in a way like nothing I've experienced. I want to bare my soul to her. I want her to see me at my most vulnerable and I trust her to accept me for exactly who I am so I fight to keep my eyes open despite my nearing orgasm. 

My legs are trembling against her and my breath is coming hot and fast, our sweat slick skin sliding against each other as she pushes me higher and higher. I never want this to end. My whole body is on fire and fizzing with pleasure but I don't know how much longer I can last. Her eyes never leave mine as she whispers “I love you Kathryn” just as she swipes her thumb over my clit and its all I need to send me tumbling over the edge, my orgasm cascading over me from my toes to the roots of my hair. My whole body feels like it leaves the bed and I'm flying through the vastness of space but I'm safe in her arms the entire time. 

I must have closed my eyes at some point because when I open them she's looking at me with concern. “Did I hurt you?” she asks. For a moment I can't fathom why she's asking but then I realise I'm crying, tears streaming down my face. I wipe them away with one hand whilst I pull her close with the other. “I'm fine.” I smile. “I'm more than fine… that was just … you are incredible. I love you Seven. I just… I love you.”


	6. Chapter 6

I roll over half onto top of her and she pulls me into her body so we can kiss again. Lazy kisses full of feeling, bringing us both back down to earth. 

When we part I search her face for some sign that this is all a horrible joke or a misunderstanding but all I see there is the love I'm feeling reflected back at me. No matter how hard I try though I just can't quite believe it. My voice cracks with tears as I speak “How can you love me?” I ask. 

She looks at me like I just sprouted an extra head. “Because you're the most remarkable woman I've ever met” she says as if it should be obvious. “And the most beautiful” she adds, kissing me playfully on the nose. It must be obvious from my face that I'm deadly serious though because she sobers again before she says “I've loved you for as long as I've known what it is to love. Longer even.”.

All this time. All these years. All the years we've wasted. My head won't wrap around it. “But... Why now?” I press shifting up onto my elbows. I need to know. I need to know I'm not crazy. Perhaps this isn't the time to be having this conversation but I need to hear it. 

“I spoke to Tuvok last week. He provided me with some facts that I hadn't been aware of previously.” She says, somewhat cryptically. 

My mind is racing, trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together but I can't fathom it out. “What facts?” I ask. 

“I had previously believed you to be exclusively interested in heterosexual intimacy based on what I read in your Starfleet records and some things Chakotay told me. Tuvok corrected that assumption”

Ah Tuvok. He always could read me like a book. Not to mention the fact that he probably knew exactly who I had back to my quarters on the Bonestall when we were docked. He's not usually one to meddle in matters of the human heart but I'm glad he made an exception in this case. Before I can respond she continues. 

“Also Chakotay made me believe that I was nothing more than a project to you- that we met at a time in your life when you were experiencing a maternal instinct and you projected that on to me. I told him about my feelings for you and he said it was just a crush and I needed to see what it was like to be with a real man. Needless to say I realised some time into our relationship that I was not interested in him or any other ‘real’ men, in a sexual capacity at least.”

“That rat bastard!” I exclaim. “I could kill him!” I say, sitting up in the bed, just about ready to set out and hunt him down immediately.

Sitting up she takes my face in her hands. “But none of that matters anymore. We're here together now. What is past is irrelevant.” She tells me emphatically, drawing me into another long kiss. “Lay with me. It will be morning soon.” She says, indicating the dawn light that's starting to peek through the shutters. 

“I'll never run from this again. I'm yours.” I promise her with everything I have to give, laying back in to the warm shroud of her arms. We lay silently together watching the light grow stronger. Absently I let my fingers trail patterns across her skin, tracing the lines of implants when I find them. The steady thud of her heart lulls me into a state of deep tranquility like nothing I can remember and slowly I allow my eyes to close again as drowsiness creeps over me. 

The sound of birds outside rouses me from my slumber and I instinctively reach for Seven in my state of semi-consciousness. The feeling of the sheets cold beneath my fingers brings me round with a jolt; fear surging through my blood at the possibility that it was all just a bitter-sweet dream. My body reassures me though- naked and aching, my curls still damp, the smell of her lingering on my fingers.

I request the time from the bedside interface and find that I have slept past 0800. Seven must have been up with Magnus for over an hour and a half. Despite that knowledge I can't bring myself to leave this sanctuary just yet and I allow my memories to replay the last several hours. I've never made love like that before. Certainly not with Mark. He was so polite and business like, I don't think he would have known how to even start going about making me feel what she made me feel. But even with Justin- who I once held up as the great love of my life, who I grieved over the loss of by staying in my bed for months on end, even with him it was never like that. I've never given so much of myself over or felt such an intense connection on such a visceral level. 

When I rise and pull the blinds sunlight bathes me and I close my eyes and let it seep into my soul. A new day. A new beginning. Everything fresh. A whole new world to be discovered and I won't even need to leave orbit to do it. On some level it's so mundane but even though I'm still the only Starfleet Captain to have explored the Delta Quadrant nothing could be more exciting to me than what lays ahead of me when I walk out of this bedroom door. 

Turning back to the bed I see a fluffy white robe with a handwritten note resting on top of it. 

“Kathryn, much as I would have liked to have had you wake in my arms I have had to tend to Magnus. Whatever you can find or replicate is yours, take what you need. I'll be waiting for you. Always. S xx”

My heart skips as I read the note again. Written in cursive script no less. The handwriting is just like her- elegant and curving. When we met some might have said she was nothing more than a machine yet here she is living amongst nature, reading old fashioned paper books and passing hand written notes. It thrills me and I clutch the scrap of paper to my chest before folding it and slipping it into my pants pocket which I collect from the floor. 

Slipping into the robe I pad down the hallway and into the bathroom. There's a bath tub but I don't want to waste time when I could be downstairs with Seven and Magnus. The sonic shower puts my teeth on edge so I opt for a quick hydro shower and afterwards replicate a small vial of my perfume to dab on my pulse points. After cleaning my teeth and running a brush through my hair, which I leave wet, I pull the robe back over my naked body. 

At the top of the stairs I pause. It feels momentous. Whatever happens this is the start of something and I want to remember every sight and smell and sound and etch it into my mind permanently. Eventually the lure of the future beckons me and I descend the wooden stairs, my skin tingling in anticipation of her touch. Without a doubt, this is where I belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all... For now. I think there's more. Let me know if you'd like to hear it. 
> 
> Thank you for reading if you made it this far! 
> 
> Comments and kudos very welcome.


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